


Beyond The Sunset

by the_transparent_wolf



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, First Meetings, Gen, M/M, judge!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 06:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10299557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_transparent_wolf/pseuds/the_transparent_wolf
Summary: The number Eggsy calls leads to judge!Harry's chambers. There are no spies, no guns, no tranquilliser-shooting umbrellas -- but there are suits, and glasses, and well-spoken gentlemen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome. This work is un-betaed.

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose trying to soften the ache behind his eyes. Then he put on his glasses and fixed his sternest gaze on the young man slouched in the chair, glaring at the floor. From the shinny gold hair to the white winged sneakers, he was a splash of brightness in the mahogany and leather of Harry’s chambers and he looked as comfortable as a hyena in a Japanese tea shop.

“Take off your hat, Eggsy.”

The scowl darkened mightily. Harry liked to think that Eggsy Unwin took off his cap because Harry told him so, but life left him with little illusions as to his authority over recalcitrant teenagers.

“Do you know how much trouble you are in?” said Harry.

Eggsy shrugged.

“Larceny, malicious damage to property, contumelious disregard of traffic rules,” Harry had to admit he was secretly rather impressed with Eggsy’s driving skills. It had been years since he heard a speeding offence involving reverse driving, on a highway no less. It was terribly dangerous, however, and the consequences were severe.

“Maximum ten years imprisonment,” said Harry. 

“So?”

“I’m trying to help you, Eggsy. You could be more cooperative.” No forthcoming response. “Will you tell me the names of the gentlemen who accompanied you on February 12th?”

Shake of head.

“What were the circumstances of you taking the car?”

A blank expression slid over Eggsy’s features.

“Were you coerced? Intimidated? Did someone tell you to do it? Give me something to work with, Eggsy. This isn’t your first criminal offence. As matters stand right now you may be looking at jail time.”

Perhaps Harry’s tone sounded sincere or the reality of it touched Eggsy, he looked at Harry for the first time, and he looked worried.

“How likely’s it going to be?” he asked.

“I can’t give you legal advice. It would be unethical and inappropriate for me to give you legal advice. You need to speak to an independent lawyer, Legal Aid or a private solicitor.” Shutters fell down again. “I can, however, give you a framework for you to take to your solicitor. The framework can be specific or general, I believe a specific framework is preferable in your particular case.” 

Eggsy sat up a bit straighter, searching Harry’s face for hints, and he looked so torn between hopefulness and mistrust Harry impulsively reached across the table. Eggsy flinched. Harry pretended he wanted his pen instead.

“Theoretically, your solicitor may suggest that you be open and frank with the Court and disclose extenuating circumstances. It may just happen that coercion was involved, perhaps abuse has occurred.”

Eggsy tried to shrink into his thin vest. 

“You lost your father at a young age, you come from a low-socioeconomic background. Coming from a low-socioeconomic background is no excuse for breaking the law. But you may feel inclined, upon legal advice, of course, to explain how remorseful you feel, the sympathetic circumstances, and the Court may look less unfavourably upon you.”

“Why are you doing this?” asked Eggsy suspiciously. “People like you don’t take your time out to help people like me.”

Harry sighed. Eggsy crossed his arms. 

“Your father saved my life,” said Harry.

Eggsy’s arms dropped to his side, his mouth even formed a little O.

“You’re a judge? What were you doing that needed my dad?”

“Have you heard of the Fitzgerald Inquiry?” Eggsy shook his head. “The Royal Commission?” Eggsy looked at Harry like he’d sprouted two heads. “Seventeen years ago, Parliament formed a Royal Commission to investigate allegations of corruption in British intelligence services. There were concerns about the safety of individuals heading the inquiry.”

“You?”

“Not quite. It was Lord Fitzgerald. The point is, your father was appointed to protect my safety and he died doing his duty.”

Eggsy heard the clock ticking.

“He was awarded a metal of honour posthumously. I will always be grateful—”

“My dad died to protect _you_?” interrupted Eggsy.

“Eggsy,” said Harry carefully. 

“Don’t say my name like you’ve got any right—” Eggsy half-rose from his chair nearly snarling. “Like you’ve got any right. Not one word from you all these years. Do you know what Ma’s gone through after my dad died? We get a shitty medal like a pat on the head while you tell me how grateful you are, all the while judging me from your ivory tower.”

“I have a right,” cut in Harry. “I gave you the number you called. I assure you I do not receive every criminal delinquent that comes my way in my chambers. And yes, I bloody am judging you. Dropped out of the marines where you were doing brilliantly to a blemished record no respectable institution would glaze over. You reverse-drove on a highway. Thank your stars that no one died. You would be in for murder.”

“I know what I was doing.” Sullenness made Eggsy unfriendly but his earlier outburst had brought blood to his face. As he turned his face away, Harry saw the edge of a blooming cheek. 

“I _am_ trying to help you.”

Eggsy was silent, thinking. Harry hoped he would make the smart decision. 

“What do I do?” Eggsy asked.

“You start by retaining a solicitor. I’ll leave this card with you. His name is James Lancelot-Jones. He’s not half bad.”

Eggsy picked up the card and raised his eyebrows at the engraved copperplate font. Harry could see why; it looked more like a calling card than a business card.

“He’s not cheap,” said Eggsy, not really a question.

“No, he’s not cheap,” said Harry. “Which is why you will mention that your father was Lee Unwin.”

“Not your name?”

“I’d appreciate it if you don’t, Eggsy. I’m sure you understand.”

“Alright.” Though Eggsy didn’t understand, he practiced the virtue of not asking too many questions. “So, what, I call this fellow, and tell him I’m Lee Unwin’s son?”

“Hand him your brief. Your brief of evidence. The police will serve it on you. Take everything to James. He’ll know what to do once he’s read through everything.”

“And his fees?”

“Will be greatly discounted, I predict.”

“Just on the name of my dad.” Eggsy crossed his arms, slightly impressed and mostly…piqued. Harry didn’t understand it.

“What’s the matter?” Harry asked.

“Just revelling in what you lot feel every day. You know, things made easier by having the right name, being friends with the right people, attending the right school.”

“It’s hardly the club what you’re making out.”

“You worked for _Lord_ Fitzgerald, Harry.”

“Don’t be impressed by titles, Eggsy,” scolded Harry. “It’s such an external quality. Titles are lost as easily as they are gained — you only have to marry or fail to reproduce. Your father gave his life in the line of duty to protect a member of the judiciary. It is not the same as having a double-barrelled surname.”

“Thanks, Harry,” muttered Eggsy, looking down at his entwined hands.

Harry passed him another business card with a hand-written number. “This is my direct line. If you have any trouble, call me.”

Eggsy stood up and nodded at Harry and stiffly walked out of the room. Harry watched him go, hoping that Eggsy will act on the numbers in his pocket. He sat down feeling inexplicably tired. Drawn and old. 

Harry leant back in his chair, glasses dangling in his hands. 

Digging up old ghosts enlivened the years in the walls of his mind, yet it didn’t explain the odd pulse of his heart and sense of loss when he looked at Eggsy Unwin. The chambers felt emptier somehow even though Eggsy returned his chair to its original place.

He’d laid the cards at Eggsy’s feet. It was up to Eggsy now.

Lancelot’s call came one week later; Harry began to think about the sort of trouble he was getting himself into.

 

 

 

 


End file.
